


A Tangled Web

by cornerandchair



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Consensual Drugging, Gags, Gentle Dom, M/M, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Praise Kink, Trans Character, Web!Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13922571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornerandchair/pseuds/cornerandchair
Summary: “Jon, wake up, Jon.”Jon is pulled from a dreamless sleep by Martin’s voice.





	A Tangled Web

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“Jon, wake up, Jon.”

Jon is pulled from a dreamless sleep by Martin’s voice. He groans and pulls the blankets over his head. He’s still spent from the days statements. Work is a long distant memory and anything other than sleep and the warmth of Martin’s body next to him is unwelcome.

Which is, of course, the cue for Martin to move. He sits up and shifts to sit over Jon’s waist. “Come on, I know you’re awake.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight as Martin eases the blanket away from his face. “Five more minutes… Then I’ll go to work.” He blinks a few times as the blur he knows to be Martin slowly gains a little sharpness to it.

Even without his glasses he could see the expression on the other’s face change, though it was still equally hard to place. “It’s not time for work yet.” Martin leans down so their noses are almost touching, “You don’t remember, do you?”

He blinks lazily again, the final fog of sleep still clouding his mind. “Remember?” he looks over at the clock on the bedside table and squints the numbers into something readable.

10:46 pm.

“Elias sent you home early because you overtaxed yourself for The Beholding again.” Martin explains, “but today was supposed to be _my_ day, Jon.”

“Shit.” he starts to prop himself up on his elbows, but Martin pushes him back down.

“You don’t have to get up.” His hand is warm on Jon’s chest. It should be pleasant. It was once before. Now, with Martin’s sticky fingers pressing into his collarbone he thinks about the web that Martin is tangled in.  
And the web that Martin has tangled him in.

Jon places a hand over Martin’s. “What do you want?”

Martin closes the short distance between their mouths and kisses him. He used to taste faintly of tea and honey, now he tastes musty, the way the air in a spider filled basement tastes. His kisses are gentle-- it seems not even The Web could change that in Martin. But gentle did not always mean ‘nice’.

What is never ‘nice’ about this moment is the moment Jon begins to feel Martin’s web enter his mouth. At first it always feels like he’s got a hair stuck in there, and then as Martin’s tongue weaves in between his lips it starts to feel more like what it is. A gag made of spider webs.

“Only the best spider’s silk for you.” Martin would say, “I love hearing your voice, but I do have to keep The Archivist in check.” His voice would sound so honey sweet, but behind his eyes Jon can see the hunger.

Mr. Spider has still gotten to Jon, even after all these years.

After that comes the soft crawling sensation beneath his skin. Not like Jane Prentiss’s worms, but just the faintest feeling of little spider legs crawling up and down his body. Martin would remove his clothes one at a time, leaving Jon mostly undressed as he sits on the edge of the bed and admires.

“I’ve loved you for years, Jon.” Martin almost whispers, tracing faint spider web patterns into his stomach. “I was just… drawn to you, I guess. Never knew why.” The patterns get lower and lower until just above his hip. “I used to wonder if I was right for The Archives, you know. Now I know exactly where my place is.”

Jon moans, attempting to shift his lower body up towards Martin’s hand.

Before Martin would yield to the simple move, indulge Jon’s wordless need for more intimate contact. Now Martin looks at him like a fly caught in a trap, he pulls his hand from Jon’s chest and tuts.

“Ah-ah. You know how this goes.” Martin speaks as though the way ‘this goes’ doesn’t change every time.

This time seems to involve Martin leaning down and biting down on his neck. His teeth are sharp, yet they do not pierce his skin the way human teeth should. Instead they sting as a spider’s fangs would. It is not long after that a certain weight settles into Jon’s limbs. A surprisingly gentle feeling--not unlike being tipsy. Jon recognizes this as Martin’s venom.

He moans again, his vision blurring slightly as Martin’s warm lips move from that spot of his neck to his chin. Those soft kisses blur together, and Jon feels Martin’s hands on his shoulders. No, they’re on his chest. No, they’re on his hips--between his legs. Martin has more arms and hands than he should. Jon tries to wonder if this is just the venom playing tricks on him but his focus is shot.

Everything is moving and touching and impossible to keep track of because sometimes Jon feels perhaps a little more like a fly than he wants to, but then Martin is holding him close, tugging gently on the back of Jon’s hair and whispering sweet nothings against his skin.

“Good, Jon, that’s right.” He could sometimes pick out, “just relax into it. You’re doing so well, Jon.”

He doesn’t know when Martin started thrusting into him, but it’s almost hardly noticeable with all the other sensations currently demanding his attention. Right up until Martin pulls out, and then Jon feels all _too_ aware of what has just happened.

He feels mostly numb, but the buzz that had been building from the moment the venom hit was growing to be too much. He thrust his hips up in an attempt to get Martin--or, hell, _something_ back inside of him. Jon reaches for Martin’s shoulders and tries to pull him closer.

But Martin deftly pins his hands to the bed frame while two other hands drift down where the ache is worst. One of those keeps his hips pressing into the bed sheets while the other starts massaging around his clit. That buzz grows to an almost painful crescendo, he’s gasping through the spiderwebs, barely able to open his eyes when he feels Martin give one particularly hard _thrust_ that sends him over the edge.

His whole body shudders as he feels Martin come as well. Then, just like that, he’s back to pleasant numbness as Martin wraps all his arms around Jon, allowing him to curl up into Martin as much as he humanly could.

“You were amazing,” Martin says softly as Jon begins to drift, “wonderful as always, I promise.” He presses light kisses around the venom injection point. “Such a good job...”

Jon thinks he could lay here forever. He thinks that maybe Martin’s web isn’t one he really minds being trapped in.  
And he dozes off listening to Martin’s praises.


End file.
